Hmm, Do Gypsies Taste Good?
by Detouredbe
Summary: As Judge Frollo said, gypsies don't do well inside stone walls, but nobody does well with what two important gypsies are about to experience. And no, it's not exactly what the title implies, but it fits.


**I'm sure I've built quite a reputation on this site as a wack-job writer, by this point. Certainly this concept will be no exception to the evidence. What can I say, though? If an idea tells me to type, then I type. If it tells me to take it from there, I take it from there. I remain insistent however that my ideas do not control my mind...**

**Well, up to now I haven't tried anything which explores the relationship between Clopin and Esmeralda, an ever-popular topic among their fans, so this will be how I'm going to get with the program. It's supposed to take place a number of years before the first HoND film; I don't know how old Esmeralda is supposed to be in the film, but she seems like she passed sixteen a while before, so that's the age I'm using. As a final note, copyright belongs to Disney and Victor Hugo, in alphabetical order.**

"I assure you, _mes amis_, that whatever we did wrong, we are most deeply sorry!" Much as he knows it is useless to try and sweet/innocent-talk the guards, Clopin figures it never hurts to try. He's actually not entirely clear on how they succeeded in capturing him, for he has so far prided himself on being impossible to catch. It happened somehow while he was trying to save Esmeralda, who was falling behind, but that's about all he'll take for fact.

The guard carrying him by the arms, suspended in mid air, snorts skeptically. "Yeah, sure. You're only sorry you got caught!"

Chuckling as though it were merely a trip down memory lane between two close comrades, Clopin replies, "Ah yes, well, that bit didn't so much need to be said -"

"Leave me alone! Put me DOWN!" the sixteen-year-old girl shrieks, kicking and struggling in the grasp of the guard carrying her. Clopin looks pityingly over at his friend, Esmeralda, before being tossed into the cell like a sandbag over the edge of a ship, landing upside down, back against the wall and legs out to the sides. As he groans in discomfort and displeasure, the guards jeer at and mock him, saying a number of things which ought not to be recollected in print. The one carrying Esmeralda is about to fling her into the cell next door, but she finally manages to clamber out of his arms, biting him sharply on the ear after scrambling up his shoulder.

"Yaagh! Get off! Get the little witch off me!" the guard yelps. Now it is Clopin's turn to laugh, while admiring his friend's feistiness. Before long, Esmeralda is snatched up again and sent for a tumble into the cell. Before the door is closed and locked, she manages to pick herself up and dash past the door again.

"Oh no you don't, scum," the guard she did not bite says, grabbing for her. She evades his grasp, and almost makes it back to the door, but he is too fast for her. As she is dragged back to her intended cell, kicking and fighting the entire way, she sees that the other guard has now chained Clopin at the wrists and ankles.

"No! Let go of me!" She punches the arm of the guard holding her with her elbow, then runs into Clopin's cell, kneeling on the cold stone ground beside the gypsy king and wrapping her arms around him. "If you're going to lock us up in here, fine. But I'm not staying in a separate cell from my husband, and you can't make me!" This earns her a small look from him, at first, but he still plays along with her claim of a marital bond so they won't hopefully be separated.

"Fine then," the guard she punched then comes in and begins to chain her wrists as well.

"Quite a lovely sight to behold," a voice which makes the dungeon's already frigid temperature drop by multiple degrees declares, approaching the door of the cell. As the hated shadow falls over the two gypsies, both of whom glare daggers at it, the voice continues. "One would almost believe there was real affection within this display of loyalty… were it not coming from loveless, heathen _gypsies_."

Judge Frollo* then says, "Regardless, I will not allow any of your _obscene_, uncivilized behaviour in my dungeons. Guards, remove the girl and return her to her cell."

Clopin laughs in a tone cold enough to match the judge's. "Obscene, eh? So says the man who has come in here wearing a _gown_!" Esmeralda can't stop herself from giggling at that remark. He winks at her, glad she appreciated the joke.*

If that wasn't thunder outside, entirely in tune somehow with Frollo's snarl, Clopin will gladly let the puppet in his likeness get the better of their next argument, when he and Esmeralda get out of here. And they will get out, of course.

Eyeing the judge, who has now entered the cell and come within inches of them, and who seems to be preparing to deliver a swift kick if not more, Clopin tries to cover Esmeralda, even in his presently shackled state. All of a sudden, the judge appears to change his mind. A cunning smile contorts his features. "You are the leader of the gypsies that infest Paris, isn't that right?"

"Clopin Trouillefou, King of the gypsies, in the flesh," he answers with pride, then slyly adds, "Are you going to bow down to us or not?"

Frollo is irked by this gypsy's impudence, but is above giving him the satisfaction of seeing it, and gets to his point. "You are indeed a very important example of your people. You'll undoubtedly be aware and in control of all operations they undertake, where they inhabit, and all the tricks they use to avoid my men."

"Quite a lot for one man to handle, but I think I pull it off rather well!"

"And yet, here you are, trapped in this dungeon while they go unprotected, fending for themselves in the street," Frollo continues. "I can of course, bring a change to that. I am not incapable of mercy, after all. I would be willing to consider exiling you and your people from Paris, instead of annihlating you, if you would divulge to me all of your secrets and theirs." Frollo leans in, studying Clopin's reaction to this offer.

Clopin is a master at many things, and none so much as the poker face, when it is called for. He does not believe a word of the judge's offer anyway, but even if he did he would never consider it. The gypsies' secrets are theirs and theirs alone, and especially, nothing in the world will make him disclose their hideout. "Judge Frollo," Clopin smiles with his teeth in full view, looking subtly dangerous and managing to give the judge the creeps. "I really don't think such a tiny mind as yours could take so much information, it might be like the weight of Notre Dame herself falling on top of you!"

Frollo purses his lips in a raging scowl, then returns to his normal, dry expression, steps out into the corridor again, and orders his guards, "Leave the couple in here together. I want this door locked for the remainder of their stay, and aside from to interrogate them, opened under absolutely no circumstances."

"Uh, but what about feeding them, Minister Frollo?" one of the guards asks, not getting the hint.

Frollo chuckles coldly. "Oh, that won't be necessary. These vermin are not even worthy of stale scraps," he says, eyeing them over his shoulder. "If they refuse to cooperate and give us the information we need, justice for their crimes shall be delivered by denying them as much of their daily bread as they've likely denied so many others with their trickery and theft."

Clopin and Esmeralda both stare at the judge, horrified. Clopin tries to be lighthearted about their predicament for Esmeralda's benefit. "It seems as if this so-called 'palace' does not know how to treat a guest who happens to be a king!" Instead of laughing at his whispered comment, Esmeralda snarls and jumps to her feet, tensing her shackled wrists as she shouts, "How can you do this to us? How do you live with yourself?"

Frollo replies in a still colder voice, "Instead of asking trivial questions, you should pray that the Lord will forgive your sins. More immediately, you should pray that He will allow you both to live out your remaining time together. The longer your 'king' refuses to talk, the longer that shall be, and with your pagan, ungodly ways, it is only a matter of time before one of you… becomes desperate. Oh, and one more thing," he announces to the guards. "Remove their chains. The prisoners are only to be shackled during interrogation. Other than that they may roam within this space as they please," he gestures towards the spanse of the cell with his hand.

The two of them are unchained by one of the guards, held at swordpoint by the other should they try anything. The door is then closed as soon as the guards depart, and the sound of a lock being secured on the outer side can be heard.

Furious, Esmeralda gets up and pounds on the door with both fists, "Let us out! You can't do this! This is wrong! Let us out!" Upon receiving no answer and hearing the door to the dungeons slam, she gives up and slumps to her knees. Clopin gets up and draws his morose friend into his arms, trying his best to cheer her up.

**/**

A night and a day pass by, and aside from interrogation - during which both remain completely silent about their secrets no matter what torturesome measures are taken out on them - the two gypsies spend most of the time pacing around as long as they can stand to, acknowledging how uncomfortably small the cell is, or conversing about any random topic they can think of - a story or two from Clopin (Esmeralda's never too old for those), or some obscure thought one of them has - to perk themselves up after being whipped throughout interrogation, and to take their minds off their growing hunger and thirst. Unfortunately, most of their conversations somehow keep returning to the concept of food: "And the princess married the prince, and lived happily ever after," Clopin finishes.

Esmeralda sighs dreamily, then comments, "I wonder what they had at their wedding feast."

A little later on: "Wouldn't you just love to take that whip and give the judge a thousand lashes?"

"Oh yes. Take the whip, whip him up and serve him with strawberries," Clopin grins, then frowns. "That just slipped out, sorry."

"Clopin," Esmeralda pipes up after a rather sulky lull, "Do you remember when I was nine and I tried dancing at the Feas- um, our yearly party on January 6th?"

Clopin has to laugh. Esmeralda has always held fine potential for dancing, and it has been finally starting to show recently, but at the time she's speaking of her body hadn't quite developed a shape which fits the seductive nature of a gypsy woman's dance. "Ah, yes, that was the year the King of Fools was accompanied by the first-ever Princess of Fools, _non_?"

She laughs. "Yes. And then as a crown you hollowed out that head of lettuce for me!" Realizing she's just mentioned a food item again, Esmeralda lowers her head. Clopin wants to think of something amusing to take her mind off food again, but with the slideshow of breads, cheeses, apples, and various meats and vegetables that is playing in his mind at the moment, he is in a rare state for himself: Completely at a loss for words.

On Day 2, neither of the two of them is much in the mood for walking or for talking. They instead take turns throughout the day trying to nap in hopes of escaping their deprivation-induced pains, or seriously trying to figure out if there's not some way out of this trap that has hitherto evaded their knowledge. At least this time Frollo ordered his guards to cease using a whip while trying to demand information from them, deciding that the torture starvation will bring on them is sufficient.

While Clopin stares blankly up at the ceiling, hoping his stomach's complaints will quiet down long enough for him to get some sleep in, Esmeralda stares quietly at the door, contemplating.

"You're sure you don't have a knife?" she asks him for the hundredth time already. The idea is that they could maybe, with a little time and effort, carve at the wooden door until it would no longer be an obstacle for them.

Turning to face her, but otherwise saving his strength, Clopin replies, again for the hundredth time, "_Non_, Esmeralda, I told you already I forgot to bring one when we went out. They would have taken it away nevertheless."

"Yeah, they took everything we brought with us - our money, _my _knife, everything. And they call us thieves," she mutters, then sighs. "I can't see how we'll ever get out of here, Clopin!"

"Well, there is one way I see, all too plainly."

"There is?" Esmeralda turns around excitedly. "Tell me!"

"Quite simple, but listen close. First we starve, then we die, and then we leave and go on to Heaven or wherever we go from here."

Esmeralda glares at her friend, who is lying, hands behind his head, eyes closed, an irritatingly neutral smile on his face. "Not funny, Clopin!" She hisses at him. When he gives no further response she goes over to him and shoves his ribcage, trying to keep his attention. "How can you just give up like that?"

"Who said I'd given up?" Clopin opens his eye nearest Esmeralda, brow arched. "I'm only saying that at present that seems our only feastable way of escaping this place. If there's actually a way we can escape with our lives… well, hopefully we'll discover it in time," he shrugs, acting so cool about it all that one who was unacquainted with him might have thought he couldn't care less which way things turned out.

"You're evil," Esmeralda says, venting her frustration and unable to word her opinion of Clopin's attitude in any other way.

"I know," he grins, both eyes shut again.

Then for the first time in over twenty-four hours, she gives a genuine smile. "By the way, you said 'feastable', not 'feasible'."

Clopin opens both eyes this time and sits up, leaning on one hand and scratching his chin with the other. "Hmmm… I did, didn't I?" They manage to laugh about it for several minutes, and come down from it feeling somewhat less downhearted, if not hungrier still.

**/**

On the third day since their confinement, Esmeralda tries to nudge Clopin awake. "Clopin? Hey, Clopin? Wake up! I've got an idea!"

"Mmmm, _pain au chocolat? _Ah yes, stack my plate right up!_" _Clopin mumbles, licking his lips in his sleep.

Esmeralda rolls her eyes. "Clopin, WAKE UP!"

"Huh?" Clopin reluctantly wakens and looks up at Esmeralda's excited face. "Alas, and I was having this wonderful dream where -"

"Never mind, Clopin! I just thought of something!" Esmeralda interrupts his comically accentuated diatribe. "What if there's a fault somewhere in the ceiling we could get out through?"

Clopin looks at her questioningly through his still groggy eyes. "Does the Palace of Justice have a pantry above here?"

"Think about food once we're out of here," Esmeralda replies. "If I'm right, this could be our means of escape!"

"Mmmm, good idea, Esmeralda. _Tres bon. _You take care of that and I'll return to that scrumptious meal that was laid out for me." Clopin rolls over to resume sleeping.

Esmeralda tugs on his arm, but he pulls it away. She then crawls around till she's on his other side, and pushes him onto his back again. When he responds by pulling his hat down over his face, she climbs on top of his torso and presses her hands into it several times, urging him to wake up. "Please, Clopin, I can't reach the ceiling without your help!"

"Oomph! Watch it! I'm so hollow you might poke a hole through me!" Clopin snaps. He agrees with her idea, however, and gets around to lifting Esmeralda up, holding her around her knees, to feel the ceiling for any weak points or hidden openings which might have been installed for whatever reason. While she continues to mutter her progress to her friend, Clopin is meanwhile left in dangerous contact with her bare feet. Dangerous, as you will see, because:

"…_This little piggy went to market,_" he recites in his mind, looking at Esmeralda's toes, "_this little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none… Well, I know which piggy I'd like to drop in and see!_"*

"Well, it was worth a shot, anyway - EEEOUCH! Clopin, what are you doing?" Esmeralda shrieks in pain.

Upon hearing his friend scream, Clopin snaps out of it, and lets go of her middle toe. "I'm sorry, Esmeralda," he says, quite shaken at what he almost did, "I uh, noticed a… hangnail, and thought I'd remove it for you."

Not the most convincing lie he's ever come up with, though Esmeralda usually sees through them anyway. The search proving unsuccessful, Clopin sets her back down on the stone floor, and begins to check her toe, to make sure his biting did not damage it in any way.

"_Hmm, looks good to me. Heheh, yes, looks very good in fact. Could perhaps use a dash of salt and a little pepper, but oh well…_"

"Uh, C-Clopin?" Esmeralda is growing very afraid of the crazed look he is giving her toe. His eyes look up into hers, and the starved, deprived gleam in them actually gives her the shakes. "Y-you're scaring me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, _cherie_. How very inconsiderate of me," he smiles in a way she doesn't exactly like, and which certainly makes her feel no more comfortable about having him so close.

"Ugh! What are you doing?!" she exclaims, watching Clopin lift her foot up to his mouth.

"Why, I merely wanted to give your toe a little kiss, to make it feel better, nothing more!"

"_With his teeth bared like that?_" Esmeralda wonders incredulously, her green eyes wide in fright. Jerking her foot out of his grasp, she suggests, "Um, you uh, you know what would make me feel much better? If we maybe, uh, kept a little space between us for a while." She quickly scrambles over to the wall on their right of the door, curled up in the corner of the room.

"What, Esmeralda? You're pushing me away?" Clopin begins to well up and draws out a handkerchief to dab at his eyes. "But I have already apologized! How can you be so cruel as to not forgive me!" He goes over to the corner opposite hers and lies down, sighing, "So cruel…"

Esmeralda watches him closely. She's certain they must be crocodile tears he's shedding; Clopin has been known to joke around like that in the past. But why does she get the feeling this time it's more of a ruse directed at her?

**/**

That night, Esmeralda tries to sleep, ignoring the growling of her stomach. Three days and four nights is a long time to go without a morsel of food. Come to think of it, it's actually four days and nights, since they were out trying to restock their food supplies when the guards arrested them for no reason, and had not gotten breakfast yet.

Clopin meanwhile is mentally chastising himself, over on his side of the cell. What is wrong with him? He doesn't blame his friend one bit for being scared to be near him. He ought to have more control over his reaction to his hunger pangs. He has gone without before, many times. Going without now and then is a typical part of gypsy life, even for a leader. Especially for the leader, if they take their role seriously. Clopin has always done his best for the gypsies under his reign. When collecting food from the outside world has undergone less successful times in the past, they typically pool their supplies together and share. Often many of the gypsies in the Court of Miracles, upon noticing that he's taken precious little for himself, will try to give him a share of each of their portions. Though he'll always finally accept after many exchanges of declines and insistencies, when no one is watching he'll take those "donations" and distribute them amongst the children. After all, they need it more than he does. He can get by just fine.

Well not this time, apparently. Poor Esmeralda; no wonder she's so afraid of him now, when just recalling a simple rhyme lead him to bite her toe! When he put on a show of extreme hurt at her behaviour, with the intent of getting her to approach him and apologize, and then... She was actually _relieved_ when Frollo and the guards gave their interrogation today, because she would not be alone with him all the time they were there. If only she'd stayed in the other cell, there'd be no risk at all…

Daylight starts to break, and in the grey light beginning to fill the room, he looks around at the bare, stone floor they each are resting on. "_Couldn't even have some straw in here, I guess,_" he frowns.

He looks over at his cellmate, and observes her beginning to chew on the shoulder of her dress. In a dismal way, it's childishly adorable.

"Mmm… Pthwaw!" Esmeralda sharply spits her dress out and sits up. "Yuck," she mutters, making a face. This dress was due to be cleaned in the evening on the very day they were captured! Then she stills, noticing Clopin watching her quietly.

"_Bonjour_, Esmeralda. How are you feeling today?"

He sounds more like his normal, non-starved self, so she calmly replies, "Hungry enough that dirty cloth seemed pretty tasty at first! How are you?"

Clopin laughs. "So hungry I could devour Frollo and every last one of his guards!" Esmeralda laughs when he says this - at least his humour is getting back onto a tangent they can both appreciate. Clopin adds on, "and still have room for the whole Palace of Justice as dessert," followed by a sly wink.

"At least the guards haven't tried to tease us or anything," Esmeralda confides her thoughts. That would've been it, had the guards been malicious enough to perhaps come into the halls with a bunch of food and devour it loudly and euphorically while their famished ears had to listen and only yearn. How much longer can they go on like this? She's surprised she's made it half a week with nothing to eat or drink; she feels so weak already.

"Do you miss the others?" Esmeralda asks Clopin after a few moments have passed.

"_Clever_," he praises mentally, "_such a topic will hopefully keep both our minds off food_." "I do," he replies sadly.

"I wonder if they've figured out where we are. Maybe they could somehow get us out of here."

Were it not for the fact that Esmeralda is also trapped in this accursed cell, Clopin would be inclined to disagree, and rather that the gypsies not bother trying to rescue him - it would be too dangerous for them to take the risk. But he wants Esmeralda free so badly, especially if it'll save her from himself. Ultimately, he makes no comment.

"What I could really go for," Esmeralda suddenly puts in, absentmindedly, "Is a huge plateful of Antoinette's beef stew, with two or three rolls on the side and lots of fresh-churned butter! A wedge of cheese here, a little wine there, and maybe some -"

Although Clopin tries to shut out Esmeralda's vivid verbal imagery of the meal of her dreams, he unwillingly begins to picture all of these delectable victuals she envisions out loud, almost as if they were really there. Now that he comes to think of it, Esmeralda does look strangely to be transforming into a table bearing a steaming assortment, practically inviting him to gobble them down…

As she finishes ventilating all her pent-up thoughts of food, she turns back to Clopin and nearly shrieks. From the ravenous gleam in his eyes to his predatory grin, made even more carnivorous-looking by his chipped teeth towards the back on either side, everything about Clopin's smile as he approaches her broadcasts the message, "I've always thought you're very, very sweet, _ma cherie_! Let's find out for sure!" If Esmeralda never thought of herself as a complete and utter idiot before, she does now.

**/**

One of the guards on duty at the Palace of Justice, under the inspiration of a few too many beers after breakfast, has snuck a wench in with himself for some personal "amusement" - being too drunk to care if he's found out. Still on his current whim, he drags his prize for the afternoon by the wrist down into the dungeons - the last place anyone would look, right? He stumbles along with her in tow, not giving half a thought to whichever door he unlocks and opens. As he shoves the door back, he and the woman both gape in bewilderment at the sight of two gypsies - a man and a girl - wrestling with each other on the floor. The girl kicks the man away and leaps to her feet, but he is just as quickly up and after her again. The two continue running helter-skelter throughout the cell, the girl in front and begging the man to stop, insisting she wouldn't taste good at all. When the change in circumstance relative to the door finally becomes apparent to them, they both come to a dead halt, staring at the open door. In a flash both are wearing expressions as crazed and desperate as the man was before, bolting straight for the doorway, knocking the confused guard and wench aside and bee lining for the main door.

Clopin and Esmeralda are so blindingly happy to be free from that cell at last that they do not even bother to wonder if Judge Frollo or any of his guards might be about, and might see/give chase to them. As soon as they reach the nearest door to the outside, they are gone.

In primal awe, they pause momentarily a way down the street to savour all the sensations they've been denied for so many days. Fresh air. Fresh sunlight. Fresh bread… wait a moment. Bread, right there across the street from them! Wordlessly they dash across the street and hide around the corner of the building nearby where the bakery, with its baskets of loaves and rolls outside, is located. When the baker is distracted, Clopin nudges Esmeralda, who then scuttles over, ducked down to avoid being seen. She quickly snatches a basket of rolls and scampers back to her companion. Moments later a cry of "Stop, you thieving gypsies!" can be heard, but the baker does not pursue after Clopin quickly dashes back and tosses something shiny from his hand towards the surprised man. To be on the safe side, he and Esmeralda run off anyway. Being quite fast, and knowing a few shortcuts and nooks and crannies throughout Paris, on the way back to the Court of Miracles, comes in handy at times like this.

Having long lost any and all pursuers, the priority of getting to safety can now be safely put aside. Just outside the secret doorway into the catacombs where their home is located, the two of them cannot bring themselves to go a step further without finally satiating their accumulated hunger.

Several rolls apiece later, Esmeralda finally asks, "So, what was that you gave the baker before we ran?"

Clopin dusts his lips of any crumbs and chuckles. "Let's just say Frollo should've watched where he put his hand that first day when he was questioning me."*

"Clopin, you didn't!" Esmeralda gawks. "Why didn't he ever try to get the ring back? He must have noticed it was gone."

Clopin shrugs. The judge wears so many rings, perhaps the difference just happened to escape him. Nevertheless it's all done now. They rebundle what's left of the bread and return home, where their ever grateful people receive them happily. Although Esmeralda isn't really traumatized by the ordeal she just experienced, it ends up taking her quite a while before she can grant Clopin the same level of trust as before, which he, albeit just minutely hurt, understands perfectly. He in fact feels he's learned an important lesson in this, and decides that in times of shortage, since one never knows how long those can last, he doesn't really have to be _excessively _generous with giving away his share anymore. Not much point in the gypsy king trying to protect his subjects from the judge and his guards if they have to protect themselves from their king, after all.

**The end.**

**AN: Well, if I've made any readers require an extended trip to the refrigerator, you have my sincere apologies. And now, as I promised, the notes:**

**1. Although this would mean Frollo has encountered Esmeralda before the events of the film, the idea is that he does not recognize her between the two occasions. Put it down to it was dark in the dungeon, that's what I'd do.**

**2. Indeed, it seems like a joke Clopin himself likes immensely, if you watch him in his judicial attire during the "Court of Miracles" scene in the film.**

**3. Admittedly, that rhyme originated in England, a couple hundred years after the Paris-situated film takes place. Still, in the name of "I found that funny as heck!", I used a little historic license and threw it in.**

**4. So even though he was still shackled at the wrists then, he managed to steal one of Frollo's rings? _And_ get away with it? But how? Eh, he's Clopin! And that's answer enough.**


End file.
